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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645933">Worlds Apart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulminty/pseuds/hopefulminty'>hopefulminty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek &amp; Paul/Levenson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Not a Crossover, Slow Burn, Superheroes, Teachers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:54:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,879</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulminty/pseuds/hopefulminty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The hero in the middle of the pack removed his mask and said he personally would see to it that each and every victim made it home.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Connor rubbed his eyes when he saw the guy’s face.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>It was that guy. That billionaire. The one who was famous for reasons no one could ever really remember.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>It was obvious he meant what he said. It was obvious he believed he could do it.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Connor had a feeling he wasn’t the only one who didn’t find that as reassuring as it should have been. </i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alana Beck &amp; Connor Murphy, Alana Beck &amp; Evan Hansen, Connor Murphy &amp; Cynthia Murphy, Connor Murphy &amp; Larry Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Connor Murphy &amp; Zoe Murphy, Evan Hansen &amp; Heidi Hansen, Evan Hansen &amp; Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen/Connor Murphy, Jared Kleinman &amp; Connor Murphy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue, part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The idea for this story came to me in pieces over several months. </p>
<p>First, I asked myself if I was going to be done with these characters when I’ve had enough of the <i>When...</i> universe (which I still haven’t). That elicited a shrug and a question about what tropes/scenarios I haven’t done. Enemies to friends to lovers and workplace were the answers that immediately popped into my head.</p>
<p>Next, ‘Disappear’ shuffled its way onto my Broadway playlist after ‘World Burn.’</p>
<p>And, finally, one of my friends hijacked the group chat with an extremely long and random rant about Marvel and the Arrowverse. So, really, she’s to blame for what follows.</p>
<p>Those pieces bounced around my head until I finally decided just to start writing this and see what happened. </p>
<p>Updates for this (and <i>When Connor Met Evan</i>) may or may not be random for a bit. I’ve pretty much fallen into a DEH fic writing rhythm of three/four days on, four/three days off a week, with the bulk of my writing being done on Sundays. That may vary over the next month or so because I have some real life craziness coming up. </p>
<p>The only thing I can definitely say is that I’m a night owl who usually writes and posts at night. I do cut myself off at a certain point though, so if there hasn’t been an update posted by 1:30 am EST, it isn’t going up that night. If it goes up later than that, then I must be having a really weird day.</p>
<p>Rated T for swearing and because the usual sensitive topics (including suicide and anxiety) will be touched on. Tags may be added/changed as I go.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The hallway seemed to be vibrating with laughter.</p>
<p>That wasn’t unusual. The school was always loud and chaotic and overwhelming before the bell rang.</p>
<p>This was worse than usual though.</p>
<p>This felt personal.</p>
<p>Evan didn’t think it was his imagination that people were laughing at him. </p>
<p>He swirled his tongue around his mouth and checked for spinach. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had spinach, but he checked anyway. </p>
<p>He checked his shoes for toilet paper, his face for ink, his back for a ‘kick me’ sign.</p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>He kept his head down until he reached his locker. </p>
<p>He ignored the looks people were giving him.</p>
<p>There had to be some kind of mistake.  </p>
<p>People had to be mistaking him for someone else.</p>
<p>Or maybe they were looking at someone else. Maybe there just happened to be another person right beside him. Someone who’d been at his shoulder since he’d entered the building. Someone he hadn’t noticed because his heart had been pounding and his palms had been sweating and the laughter was really making him sick.</p>
<p>He glanced around hopefully.</p>
<p>No one.</p>
<p>It was just him.</p>
<p>It was always just him.</p>
<p>He swallowed sharply and pretended to dig through his locker.</p>
<p>His gut kept trying to tell him what this was. </p>
<p>To scream it, really.</p>
<p>He refused to listen.</p>
<p>He refused to let himself think it had something to do with his letter.</p>
<p>It couldn’t have something to do with his letter. He’d been glued to his phone all morning. He’d been glued to it since the second he’d left school.</p>
<p>He’d checked every site he could think to check countless times.</p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>As far as he could tell, Connor hadn’t posted it anywhere.</p>
<p>He hadn’t posted it anywhere online.</p>
<p>Evan had to put a hand out to steady himself when he saw the bulletin board at the end of the hall.</p>
<p>The one that was always covered with fliers that people mostly ignored.</p>
<p>The one that had attracted a crowd. A large crowd. A large crowd of people who were laughing and smirking in his direction.</p>
<p>He felt like he was going to throw up.</p>
<p>He had to get out of there. He slammed his locker shut.</p>
<p>That only made it worse. It was like every eye in the hall was directed at him. He heard someone ask if he was Evan Hansen.</p>
<p>They didn’t ask him. He wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse.</p>
<p>He lowered his head and tried to hurry towards his homeroom. </p>
<p>He didn’t make it very far. An arm reached out of the bathroom and pulled him in before he could register what was happening.</p>
<p>His heart tried to explode in his chest. He pushed the person away and shifted into a defensive position. </p>
<p>“Down, boy.” Jared rolled his eyes and shoved a flier – the flier – the letter – in Evan’s face.</p>
<p>Evan tried to snatch it away. “Where did you...”</p>
<p>His heart skipped a beat when he realized what that meant.</p>
<p>There were copies.</p>
<p>Multiple copies.</p>
<p>The bulletin board wasn’t an isolated incident.</p>
<p>He was going to be sick.</p>
<p>He ran for the sink and dry heaved into it. He didn’t think he’d ever been that happy he’d skipped breakfast.</p>
<p>He gripped the sides of the sink and stared at his reflection and...</p>
<p>He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. </p>
<p>A look that was almost sympathetic flashed across Jared’s face before it was replaced by one of total disdain. “What the hell is this?”</p>
<p>Evan shook his head. </p>
<p>“Who wrote it?”</p>
<p>Evan’s head popped up. “Who-who... what?”</p>
<p>It was like all the air had been sucked out of him.</p>
<p>Jared didn’t know. He didn’t <i>know</i>.</p>
<p>None of them did.</p>
<p>He started to laugh. </p>
<p>The letter was addressed to him. It didn’t have his signature on it. </p>
<p>He was saved.</p>
<p>Jared shoved the paper at him again. “I’m serious. Who wrote this shit?”</p>
<p>Evan swallowed several times. “I-”</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me you don’t know. You have to know. You have to set the record straight.”</p>
<p>Evan shook his head to clear it. “What? Why?”</p>
<p>“Because,” Jared drawled. “Everyone’s going to think it was me.”</p>
<p>“Why would they think that?”</p>
<p>Jared let out a barking laugh. “Because who else would it be? I’m the only person you ever talk to around here.”</p>
<p>He had a point. A semi-valid one at that.</p>
<p>Of course, anyone who actually knew Jared would know the letter didn’t sound like him. </p>
<p>Evan didn’t think there were that many people who would get that right away though.</p>
<p>He tried to focus on what felt like the most pressing concern. “Where did you get that?”</p>
<p>Jared rolled his eyes. “It’s everywhere.”</p>
<p>“Everywhere?”</p>
<p>“Everywhere,” Jared groaned. </p>
<p>Evan was going to be sick. He was really going to be sick. He chewed his thumb and tried to breathe.</p>
<p>Jared eyed him warily. “Do you want me to leave?”</p>
<p>“What?” Evan croaked.</p>
<p>“You look like you’re going to puke and I really don’t want to watch you puke. Should I leave?”</p>
<p>He sighed when Evan didn’t respond.</p>
<p>He turned to go.</p>
<p>Evan closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He clutched the sink like it was the only thing keeping him upright.</p>
<p>Which it was.</p>
<p>His knuckles were dangerously white.</p>
<p>He gasped when someone grabbed his arm.</p>
<p>Jared.</p>
<p>Jared grabbed his arm and turned it over so his cast was facing the ceiling. “Holy shit.”</p>
<p>It took Evan a second to follow that. He jerked his arm away when he did.</p>
<p>Jared had noticed Connor’s signature. The wheels weren’t just spinning in Jared’s head. They were sending the train off the tracks.</p>
<p>Jared’s mouth dropped open. “Holy forking shirtballs.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Prologue, part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoe put a hand to her chest and laughed when she felt someone run up behind her. “Oh my God. Nicole. Really? Where did you even come from?”</p>
<p>Nicole shoved her phone in Zoe’s face. “Have you seen this?”</p>
<p>She pulled her phone away before Zoe could see what she was talking about. Zoe shook her head. </p>
<p>“It’s everywhere! Didn’t you get my texts?”</p>
<p>Zoe turned around to point at her car. “I was driving.”</p>
<p>Nicole chewed her lip. “It’s you, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Zoe shook her head again. “What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>“The Zoe in the letter. It’s you, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“What letter?” Zoe demanded.</p>
<p>She sighed and checked her phone when Nicole didn’t go on. </p>
<p>She’d heard her phone exploding with texts while she was driving. She hadn’t looked though because she was a responsible driver who always kept her eyes on the road. And because the last time that had happened it was because Maya and Jenny had shown up wearing the same outfit.</p>
<p>She’d figured it was just another fashion-related crisis. She’d been expecting to read a bunch of funny texts about how they were all developing a hive mind.</p>
<p>That wasn’t the case.</p>
<p>Eleven different people had sent her a picture of a letter. A letter that mentioned someone named Zoe.</p>
<p>She blinked at her phone. “What is this?”</p>
<p>“It’s all over the school,” Nicole hissed. </p>
<p>“Who’s Evan Hansen?”</p>
<p>“According to Jenny, he’s a senior here.”</p>
<p>“Jenny knows him?”</p>
<p>Nicole shook her head. “She heard someone say that.”</p>
<p>Zoe read the letter again. Really read it. “This is-”</p>
<p>“It’s got to be a joke, right?” Nicole said. “That’s what everyone’s saying.”</p>
<p>“They think it’s a joke? It’s sad.” Zoe jabbed a finger at her phone. “Listen to this. ‘Would anybody even notice if I disappeared tomorrow?’ How is that funny? That’s sad. That’s-”</p>
<p>“They’re saying it’s, like, some kind of messed up love letter. Like it’s supposed to guilt a girl-” Nicole coughed the word ‘you’ into her hand. “-into going out with them.”</p>
<p>“That’s not funny!”</p>
<p>“It is if your name isn’t Zoe.”</p>
<p>Zoe closed her eyes.</p>
<p>Nicole absentmindedly twirled her hair. “Maybe they’re song lyrics. Maya thinks it sounds like something Kev’s band would perform.”</p>
<p>Zoe shook her head. “Kev isn’t that deep. None of them are. And why would they do this anyway?”</p>
<p>“To drum up some attention for their band? To get some free publicity?” Nicole practically bounced up the stairs. “Alana’s freaking out. You know Alana Beck?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Zoe nodded.</p>
<p>“Apparently, the letter got mixed in with a bunch of fliers she was copying yesterday and some freshman plastered it all over the school.”</p>
<p>Zoe froze in her tracks. Something about that didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t put her finger on what. </p>
<p>It was too early to work that out. </p>
<p>She rubbed her eyes and glanced over her shoulder at her brother.</p>
<p>At her brother who was still there, who hadn’t taken off like he always did, who was walking right behind them. </p>
<p>Her brother who was obviously listening to every word they said.</p>
<p>She decided to ignore that. </p>
<p>She decided to ignore the letter. It didn’t have anything to do with her. She didn’t even know anyone named Evan Hansen.</p>
<p>And she wasn’t the only Zoe in the school.</p>
<p>“Maybe it’s about Zoe Carlson,” Zoe said.</p>
<p>Nicole considered that for a moment. “Or Zoe Peters.”</p>
<p>“Or Zoe Matthews.”</p>
<p>Nicole wrinkles her nose. “Not Zoe Matthews.”</p>
<p>“Why not Zoe Matthews?”</p>
<p>“Who would...” Nicole cleared her throat and pulled herself up to her full height. “Who would pin all their hope on Zoe Matthews?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Zoe laughed. “Who would pin all their hope on me?”</p>
<p>“Me,” Nicole grinned. “I would absolutely-”</p>
<p>Zoe shook her head. “No...”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Nicole shrieked. “Save me, Zoe Murphy. You’re my only hope!”</p>
<p>Zoe smiled at her feet. “I guess you’re doomed then.”</p>
<p>Nicole sighed heavily. “I guess I am.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Prologue, part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alana crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap. She didn’t look away. She refused to lower her eyes or look contrite.</p>
<p>She had nothing to be ashamed of.</p>
<p>This debacle was not her fault.</p>
<p>It was absolutely, positively not her fault.</p>
<p>“We just want to make sure you understand,” Mrs. Jenkins said softly.</p>
<p>She smiled at Alana like they were old friends.</p>
<p>Which they kind of were. </p>
<p>Or so Alana had thought.</p>
<p>“We can’t let this slide because-”</p>
<p>“I didn’t hang those fliers,” Alana insisted. </p>
<p>“We know,” Mrs. Jenkins nodded. She stared at Mr. Hynes until he nodded too. “But Olivia says you gave them to her.”</p>
<p>Alana stared at her hands. </p>
<p>That would be the last time she let a freshman help her. Olivia should’ve known better.</p>
<p>She shook her head. It wasn’t Olivia’s fault. She was new. It had literally been Olivia’s first day of high school.</p>
<p>It wasn’t Olivia’s fault</p>
<p>It was hers. She was going to have to figure some things out. She was going to have to get used to working alone. She couldn’t trust anyone to get the job done. To care the way she did.</p>
<p>Not Olivia, not Tracy, not...</p>
<p>Not Tracy. </p>
<p>That left a bitter taste in her mouth.</p>
<p>She took a breath and tried to center herself.</p>
<p>“I know my fliers have to be approved,” Alana said. “I know what would happen if you just let people hang up whatever they wanted. I didn’t... I don’t know how it got in there. It wasn’t there when I...”</p>
<p>Alana’s mouth snapped shut. </p>
<p>A rush of pure, cold terror consumed her.</p>
<p>She knew what had happened.</p>
<p>Olivia hadn’t been the only person she’d asked to help.</p>
<p>Mrs. Jenkins smiled knowingly. “When you?”</p>
<p>Alana closed her eyes. “It won’t happen again.”</p>
<p>Mr. Hynes cleared his throat.</p>
<p>Mrs. Jenkins smiled at him before he could open his mouth. “I’m sure it won’t, but...”</p>
<p>She took a breath. “Ms. Ross raised a valid concern earlier. If you know anything about this letter, about where it came from, I suggest you go see her.”</p>
<p>Alana forced herself to nod. </p>
<p>She knew where Ms. Ross was coming from. She knew there were things in the letter that sounded a bit alarming. Things that would definitely grab her guidance counselor’s attention.</p>
<p>She also knew that wasn’t what this was. </p>
<p>It was a prank. It was someone messing with her and messing with the school and being stupid.</p>
<p>It wasn’t cause for alarm.</p>
<p>She fiddled with her bag while her teachers whispered to each other.</p>
<p>She didn’t strain her ears to hear.</p>
<p>She didn’t need to hear what they were saying to know she was off the hook. </p>
<p>Mrs. Jenkins winked at her and said she was free to go.</p>
<p>Alana didn’t need to be told twice.</p>
<p>She had things to do, people to see.</p>
<p>Connor Murphy was at the top of her list.</p>
<p>And at the bottom.</p>
<p>And on the list of things she never actually planned to deal with. </p>
<p>That was the one she expected him to stay on.</p>
<p>She didn’t actually want to start a war with Connor Murphy.</p>
<p>She suspected she would’ve felt differently if her copier privileges had been revoked.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Prologue, part 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jared’s morning wasn’t the nightmare he’d been expecting. </p>
<p>He’d been expecting to be ambushed everywhere he went. He’d been counting on it. Dreading it. Anticipating it.</p>
<p>It had actually sounded kind of fun when he stopped and thought about it.</p>
<p>It would’ve been a change of pace. That was for certain.</p>
<p>It was disappointing to realize that no one had connected him to the letter. </p>
<p>It was really disappointing to realize everyone had stopped caring about the letter by third period. </p>
<p>And not just because it had been pulled off of every board, column, and wall it had been stuck on. </p>
<p>It didn’t take long for it to become old news, for people to move on and forget. </p>
<p>The mystery behind it was the only thing that still held people’s interest and even that was limited. There didn’t seem to be many people who really wanted to know the whole story.</p>
<p>Sophie Ventura was one of them. It made Jared’s day when he heard that.</p>
<p>Because if Sophie knew something, then everyone would know something. That was her superpower. She was the Reigning Gossip Queen of the Northeast. It was a self-proclaimed title, but it suited her.</p>
<p>Sophie was better at spreading news than any flier or app could ever dream to be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was harder to get Sophie’s attention than Jared had expected. </p>
<p>He should’ve known better. He should’ve known she always had blinders on that kept her from noticing people who weren’t her friends.</p>
<p>It took him tripping and practically landing in her lap for her to see him.</p>
<p>It was worth it.</p>
<p>It was worth it after she got over her disgust and stopped shrieking that she’d been violated. </p>
<p>Her face lit up when she saw him, when she really saw him.</p>
<p>“You’re Evan’s friend.”</p>
<p>Jared made his face go slack with shock. He nodded and stared at his feet and...</p>
<p>And the rest was history.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was better than Jared could’ve imagined.</p>
<p>Sophie painted a pretty picture. A beautiful picture. A picture in which he was the victim.</p>
<p>But not in a pathetic way. In a sympathetic way. </p>
<p>People felt bad for him because he’d been feeling lost and alone and had resorted to going to extreme measures to get his best friend’s attention.</p>
<p>People started running up to him and telling him they’d been there too. </p>
<p>It was amazing.</p>
<p>It was addicting.</p>
<p>He didn’t want it to stop.</p>
<p>He played it up as much as he could. He told people about how Evan had changed, how they’d drifted apart and he wasn’t sure why.</p>
<p>He said he hadn’t been thinking clearly when he slipped the letter into Alana’s stack, but he didn’t regret doing it. He’d reached his breaking point and that was how the chips had needed to fall.</p>
<p>People ate that up.</p>
<p>They loved him. </p>
<p>They hated Evan.</p>
<p>He would’ve felt bad about that, but what could he do?</p>
<p>That was just how the cookie had crumbled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was easy to ignore the guilt that kept trying to slip in when Evan wasn’t around.</p>
<p>Out of sight, out of mind. </p>
<p>He didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to have so many Evan-free classes.</p>
<p>He went the whole morning without seeing Evan. There was a chance he could go the whole day. They were never in the same English class and he didn’t know which history elective Evan had chosen.</p>
<p>They had the same lunch period. He experienced a brief twinge of something resembling guilt when he remembered that.</p>
<p>He pushed it aside because Evan usually avoided the cafeteria. </p>
<p>There was no reason for him to worry.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Except there was.</p>
<p>He knew that the instant he set foot in the cafeteria. </p>
<p>He didn’t need to hear Ronnie and his friends to know they were picking on Evan.</p>
<p>Bullying him was more like it.</p>
<p>Their body language made that clear. So did their reputations.</p>
<p>Jared’s stomach twisted as he debated whether he should intervene.</p>
<p>Ronnie spotted him and smirked so smugly he knew what they would say if he went over there.</p>
<p>They were confronting Evan on his behalf. Because they were nice like that.</p>
<p>Jared closed his eyes. </p>
<p>It felt like everyone was watching him, but he knew that wasn’t the case. Some people were. Others were watching Ronnie cackle in Evan’s face.</p>
<p>The majority of them were just eating their lunches.</p>
<p>Jared didn’t notice them at all. </p>
<p>It felt like everyone in the room was focused on the drama he’d created.</p>
<p>He loved it. So much. He loved it so, so much.</p>
<p>He destroyed the last bit of guilt that tried to slip in.</p>
<p>Evan had done this to himself. If he’d just come clean with Jared about the letter, about who had written it, none of this would’ve happened.</p>
<p>Jared shook his head. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that. </p>
<p>Around the fact that Evan freaking Hansen had secrets. That there were things going on in Evan’s life that he didn’t share with his one and only almost-friend.</p>
<p>It was terrible. It was unbelievable. It was insulting.</p>
<p>It was enough to make Jared question everything he thought he knew.</p>
<p>He slammed his tray down onto an empty table and watched the show unfolding before him.</p>
<p>Ronnie and his friends were having a blast. Tormenting people was what they did best.</p>
<p>His eyes widened when he realized Evan had reached his breaking point.</p>
<p>He watched as Evan jumped away from Ronnie.</p>
<p>“He-he didn’t...” Evan squeezed his eyes shut.</p>
<p>Jared didn’t think he’d ever heard Evan’s voice sound that loud. He could hear him from two rows over.</p>
<p>“It isn’t his letter,” Evan continued. “It’s my letter. I wrote it to myself. It’s-it’s mine. It’s... It wasn’t supposed to...”</p>
<p>He ran for it.</p>
<p>He darted out of the cafeteria so quickly Ronnie and his goons didn’t stand a chance.</p>
<p>Jared’s heart sank.</p>
<p>Evan had written the letter to himself?</p>
<p>He wondered what that was about. He wondered what it meant. He wondered why Evan hadn’t just come out and said that when he’d asked.</p>
<p>He shrugged and stabbed a tater tot with his fork.</p>
<p>Not his problem. </p>
<p>So not his problem.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Prologue, part 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The hallway was vibrating. It really felt like it was vibrating. </p>
<p>The cafeteria was worse. At least the hallway was quiet.</p>
<p>Evan didn’t make it very far before his legs gave out.</p>
<p>He slid down onto the ground across from the cafeteria. He buried his head in his arms and rubbed his forehead and tried to breathe.</p>
<p>Bad day. Terrible day. He couldn’t think of even one way he could put a positive spin on it.</p>
<p>He exhaled so sharply it came out as a hiss. His shoulders shook.</p>
<p>There was one thing. He’d gotten his wish, hadn’t he?</p>
<p>People had noticed him. They’d actually noticed him.</p>
<p>Of course, he wasn’t sure if Ronnie and his gang counted as people. They were bullies. Stereotypical bullies. Guys who had watched a bunch of ‘80s movies and decided the antagonists were #lifegoals. </p>
<p>It was enough to make him want to laugh. Or cry. Or sit there in stunned silence.</p>
<p>Luckily for him, his body only seemed capable of that last one.</p>
<p>He jumped when someone touched his shoulder.</p>
<p>Alana Beck’s sidekick. Tracy something-or-another.</p>
<p>A girl who had never so much as glanced in his direction.</p>
<p>He swallowed dryly.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Tracy whispered. “Are you okay? You feel-look... You look, um...”</p>
<p>He didn’t need a mirror to know what he looked like. </p>
<p>He felt the way he looked. He was sure of that.</p>
<p>Tracy’s face confirmed it.</p>
<p>He staggered to his feet. </p>
<p>He had to leave. He couldn’t stay there.</p>
<p>He didn’t stay there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d never skipped school before. </p>
<p>He’d never even tricked his mother into thinking he was sick so he could stay home for a day or two.</p>
<p>He’d gone to the nurse once when he’d forgotten to study for a Spanish quiz. He’d claimed to have a migraine. It was a lie. A big fat lie. One he regretted as soon as he said it. </p>
<p>It worked out okay in the end though because his nerves went so far into overdrive that he actually had a pounding headache by the time he reached her office. He didn’t even have to pretend when she asked about his symptoms.</p>
<p>And that was it. The one gray mark on his record. </p>
<p>A mark that only he knew about.</p>
<p>That wouldn’t be the case this time.</p>
<p>He knew that.</p>
<p>He knew leaving school halfway through the day would have consequences.</p>
<p>He didn’t care though.</p>
<p>He couldn’t think of any consequences that would be worse than what would happen if he stayed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The house was empty when he got home.</p>
<p>That wasn’t a surprise. He knew his mother was at work.</p>
<p>He wondered if the school had called her yet. He wondered how that worked. </p>
<p>Did they call right away? Was it an actual person or a recording? Did they even call at all or was that just a myth to scare students into behaving?</p>
<p>Would his mother answer when they called or would she let it go straight to voicemail? What would she do when she heard? Would she call him? Text him? Drop everything and come home? Laugh and think it was funny her son was playing hooky?</p>
<p>It occurred to him there was only one person he could think to ask. </p>
<p>Connor Murphy.</p>
<p>The thought of that made his blood go cold. </p>
<p>There was no way he could ask Connor. Would ask Connor. Should ask Connor. </p>
<p>Connor was at the top of the list of people trying to ruin his life.</p>
<p>The list that felt huge and scary and never-ending. </p>
<p>He didn’t know what he was going to do. </p>
<p>He didn’t know if there was anything he could do.</p>
<p>He felt like he didn’t know anything at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have at some point. </p>
<p>It was dark when he woke up. </p>
<p>He grabbed his phone to check the time. </p>
<p>His heart did a flip. Twelve text messages. Ten from his mother.</p>
<p>The other two were from his father. A photo of a picturesque hiking trail and a caption stating <i>Wish you were here to see this.</i></p>
<p>He wished that too.</p>
<p>He closed his eyes when he realized how much he wished it.</p>
<p>He rolled off his bed and headed downstairs.</p>
<p>There was a light on in the kitchen. He took a breath and tried to relax.</p>
<p>His mother looked up when he came in. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her face look that blank.</p>
<p>“You’re up.”</p>
<p>Evan nodded.</p>
<p>“There’s pasta on the stove.”</p>
<p>Evan blinked and turned his head to check. “You cooked?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Evan,” Heidi drawled. “I cooked.”</p>
<p>He could feel her watching him while he got his food. He took his time. It gave him something to do. Something other than meeting her stare.</p>
<p>“The school called.”</p>
<p>He nodded. He’d figured as much.</p>
<p>“Are you sick?”</p>
<p>He shook his head.</p>
<p>“You know you have to go to the nurse if you’re sick. You can’t just leave without telling anyone.”</p>
<p>“I’m not sick.”</p>
<p>The room fell silent.</p>
<p>He should’ve lied.</p>
<p>It would’ve been so easy to lie. To tell her his stomach was hurting or his head was hurting or he thought he had strep.</p>
<p>She would’ve felt his forehead and said he didn’t feel warm, but to go lie down and she’d bring him some soup.</p>
<p>He turned around to face her.</p>
<p>“Then why-”</p>
<p>He shrugged. “Because.”</p>
<p>She smiled knowingly. “It’s the second day of school, Evan. How bad can things be?”</p>
<p>He put his plate on the counter and started to eat.</p>
<p>The fact that he didn’t join her at the table was not lost on her. </p>
<p>She rested her chin on her hand and studied him. “Did something happen?”</p>
<p>He shrugged again.</p>
<p>“Do you want to talk about it?”</p>
<p>He shoved his fork in his mouth.</p>
<p>“Do you want me to call Dr. Sherman? Maybe he can squeeze you in again tomorrow.”</p>
<p>He dropped his fork. “I want to go see Dad.”</p>
<p>“Dad? Your dad?”</p>
<p>Evan nodded. “My dad.”</p>
<p>Heidi blinked at him like she’d been rendered speechless.</p>
<p>It only lasted a minute. “Why do you-”</p>
<p>“He wants to see me.”</p>
<p>“He wants to see you?”</p>
<p>Evan nodded.</p>
<p>“Have you talked to him recently?”</p>
<p>“We text.”</p>
<p>“And he said he-”</p>
<p>“I was just thinking maybe I could go stay with him for a while.” Evan stared at his feet. “Live with him. Maybe I can go live with him for a while.”</p>
<p>Heidi rubbed her forehead. “The school year just started. Maybe you can go there for Christmas or Thanksgiving, even.”</p>
<p>“They have schools in Colorado.”</p>
<p>Heidi stood up and joined him at the counter. “Sweetie-”</p>
<p>“I just... He wants to see me. He said he wants to see me!” He fumbled around for his phone. “I’ll show you the text.”</p>
<p>“I believe you,” Heidi said quickly. “It’s just not that simple. And...”</p>
<p>She chewed her lip. “You can’t run away from your problems. That’s not the right way to handle things.”</p>
<p>Evan’s head popped up. “I’m not running away.”</p>
<p>“Whatever happened today, it’ll be fine. You’ll see. It may feel like the end of the world now, but it was one day. One moment.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell me what happened and we can try to-”</p>
<p>“This is such crap,” Evan spat. “Why can’t I go live with-”</p>
<p>“Because you live here. Your home is here.”</p>
<p>“So, I’m stuck here because of some custody arrangement that was made when I was seven? I’m seventeen. Shouldn’t I have a say in where I-”</p>
<p>“He doesn’t want you.”</p>
<p>Evan sucked in a breath.</p>
<p>She hadn’t meant to say that. He knew she hadn’t meant to say that. He knew it before he saw her face.</p>
<p>He also knew it was the truth. Or that she thought it was at least.</p>
<p>It didn’t matter. </p>
<p>He was used to people not wanting him.</p>
<p>He closed his eyes. “And you do?”</p>
<p>“Of course, I do.”</p>
<p>“Really?” Evan laughed. “Because-”</p>
<p>Something flashed. </p>
<p>Or exploded.</p>
<p>He couldn’t tell which.</p>
<p>The light was blinding. </p>
<p>It would’ve been blinding if his eyes had been open.</p>
<p>He rubbed his eyes and laughed. “What was that?”</p>
<p>Nothing. </p>
<p>No response.</p>
<p>She was even madder than he’d thought.</p>
<p>He opened his eyes.</p>
<p>And then he closed them and rubbed them and opened them again.</p>
<p>“Mom?”</p>
<p>He glanced around frantically.</p>
<p>“Mom?”</p>
<p>He ran to the living room. “Mom?”</p>
<p>He leaned up the stairs. “Did you go upstairs?”</p>
<p>He ran up to her room. He ran to his room, to the bathroom, to the attic.</p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>She was nowhere to be found.</p>
<p>He reached for his phone. “Okay, this isn’t funny anymore...”</p>
<p>He called her.</p>
<p>It went straight to voicemail.</p>
<p>He glanced out the window. The backyard was empty.</p>
<p>So was the front.</p>
<p>He ran outside. He didn’t know why. He just ran out there.</p>
<p>Her car was still in the driveway.</p>
<p>He looked up and down the street.</p>
<p>He wasn’t the only one doing that.</p>
<p>There was chaos everywhere. His next-door neighbor was screaming for his wife. Mr. McGregor across the street was looking for his son. </p>
<p>There was a car wrapped around a tree at the end of the block.</p>
<p>Evan put a hand to his chest and tried to breathe.</p>
<p>He didn’t know what had happened. He didn’t understand what it meant.</p>
<p>He just knew his gut was right.</p>
<p>His mother was gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Prologue, part 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The drive home was quiet. Really quiet. Quieter than usual.</p>
<p>Zoe didn’t even put the radio on.</p>
<p>She was trying to punish him. Connor knew her well enough to know that was the case. </p>
<p>The joke was on her though. Being chauffeured everywhere by his little sister was punishment enough. Anything other than that felt like an afterthought.</p>
<p>Not even having to sit around school for hours while she had band practice could hold a candle to the indignity of losing his car privileges. </p>
<p>Zoe broke the silence as soon as they stepped inside. “You did it, didn’t you?”</p>
<p>Connor folded his arms across his chest. For once, he had no idea what she was talking about. “Did what?”</p>
<p>“That letter everyone was talking about. That was you, wasn’t it?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t write that!”</p>
<p>Zoe squeezed her eyes shut. “I didn’t mean... I know you didn’t write it. You’re the one who...”</p>
<p>She was doubting herself.</p>
<p>Connor could tell that. He could also tell it wouldn’t last long.</p>
<p>“I didn’t post it everywhere. Some freshman did that.”</p>
<p>“Sophomore,” Zoe corrected. “Olivia’s a sophomore.”</p>
<p>Connor shrugged because what difference did it make?</p>
<p>“You were in the faculty lounge when I found you yesterday.”</p>
<p>Connor nodded slightly.</p>
<p>“What were you doing in there?”</p>
<p>He chose to answer that by walking away.</p>
<p>He didn’t owe her an explanation. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation.</p>
<p>There was no explanation.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t have been there. He’d gotten roped into helping Alana because she was impossible to say no to, especially when she was panicking about misplacing something. He’d watched the copier for her while she went to search for her glasses case and...</p>
<p>And it had just happened.</p>
<p>He’d watched the papers go through the machine. He’d watched the copies come flying out.</p>
<p>Putting the letter in hadn’t been a conscious decision. He’d just done it.</p>
<p>There really wasn’t a good explanation for it.</p>
<p>There wasn’t even a vague half-assed one he could offer Zoe.</p>
<p>“Why would you do that?” Zoe hissed. She hurried after him. “Why-”</p>
<p>A bright light suddenly filled the room.</p>
<p>He covered his eyes to avoid the glare.</p>
<p>It was like someone was shining their headlights right at them. </p>
<p>It was worse than that.</p>
<p>It was like the sun was exploding in front of their house.</p>
<p>He glanced over his shoulder when it faded. “Why what?”</p>
<p>He shook his head and glanced again.</p>
<p>Zoe was gone.</p>
<p>As far as punishments went, this was a new one.</p>
<p>He turned on his heel and went into the kitchen. </p>
<p>He did a double take when she wasn’t there.</p>
<p>Odd. Very odd.</p>
<p>He would’ve heard her go up the stairs. He would’ve heard her go outside.</p>
<p>He circled the downstairs and then the up. </p>
<p>Nothing.</p>
<p>Zoe was nowhere to be found.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wasn’t the only one. </p>
<p>People were disappearing everywhere. </p>
<p>Not everywhere. That was an exaggeration.</p>
<p>Something had exploded out in space and the light had hit a couple dozen towns around the world. Roughly half the people in those towns had vanished without a trace.</p>
<p>Zoe was one of them.</p>
<p>So was his father.</p>
<p>It was weird and unsettling and Connor didn’t know what to think.</p>
<p>It didn’t feel real.</p>
<p>It had to be temporary.</p>
<p>He kept waiting for Zoe to pop up and start yelling at him again.</p>
<p>He kept waiting for his father to come home and ignore him.</p>
<p>He kept waiting for the light to return because it had made a mistake.</p>
<p>It should’ve taken him instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His school was closed indefinitely. </p>
<p>Teachers were missing. Students were missing. Chaos reigned.</p>
<p>He stayed home with his mother. </p>
<p>It was like she was incapable of letting him out of her sight.</p>
<p>He couldn’t blame her. It was annoying, but he knew how she felt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The story broke on the fourth day.</p>
<p>Superheroes were real.</p>
<p>Supervillains were real. A deranged one had done something to wipe out a portion of the population. </p>
<p>To make them vanish. Not to kill them.</p>
<p>The media was quick to drill in that point.</p>
<p>A massive press conference was held about it. A group of superheroes lined up and assured the public that their missing relatives were still alive, that they would be returned safe and sound.</p>
<p>That they, the heroes, would see to it.</p>
<p>The hero in the middle of the pack removed his mask and said he personally would see to it that each and every victim made it home.</p>
<p>Connor rubbed his eyes when he saw the guy’s face.</p>
<p>It was that guy. That billionaire. The one who was famous for reasons no one could ever really remember.</p>
<p>It was obvious he meant what he said. It was obvious he believed he could do it.</p>
<p>Connor had a feeling he wasn’t the only one who didn’t find that as reassuring as it should have been.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Reaper, part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Evan knew what was coming before they looked up. He didn’t need to see their faces to know. Their body language told him his gut was right.</p><p>Jo had gotten the job.</p><p>They were moving to Alaska.</p><p>It was official.</p><p>He refused to meet Shane’s stare because doing that would take away the last little piece of hope he had. </p><p>There was always a chance he was wrong. Maybe they were engaged or pregnant or getting a place of their own. </p><p>Maybe that was all this was. After six years of letting him be their third wheel, his friends were finally kicking him to the curb.</p><p>Evan closed his eyes and breathed and forced himself to look.</p><p>They looked so guilty, so downtrodden, he couldn’t help laughing. “You guys look like my parents did when they told me they were getting divorced.”</p><p>Jo snorted. “We’ll always love you, you know. Both of us. Even when we’re apart. That’s not going to change.”</p><p>Shane nodded solemnly. “This is something we need to do for us. It has nothing to do with you.”</p><p>Evan hugged himself and tried to smile. </p><p>It had everything to do with him. </p><p>It meant he was losing his roommates, his best friends, his entire support system.</p><p>He chose not to think about that.</p><p>He’d been thinking about it practically nonstop since Jo applied for the job.</p><p>In Alaska.</p><p>She may as well have tried to go to the moon.</p><p>“Alaska?” Evan shook his head at Shane. “Really? You hate the cold.”</p><p>“Hey, where she goes, I go.”</p><p>Jo patted his hand and beamed up at Evan. “You can come too!”</p><p>Evan stared at his feet.</p><p>That wasn’t a possibility.</p><p>They all knew that.</p><p>He couldn’t just pick up and leave Boulder. </p><p>Not because he liked it so much he couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.</p><p>It wasn’t that he was particularly attached to the city. He’d been there for almost ten years and it still didn’t really feel like home. </p><p>It was just that his life was there. His job was there. His family was there. The few friends he had who weren’t abandoning him to become Eskimos were there. </p><p>He couldn’t just leave.</p><p>Tempting as it was.</p><p>He couldn’t imagine life without Jo and Shane. The thought of that made his stomach twist in a way it hadn’t twisted since The Blaze.</p><p>Because when he got down to it, Jo and Shane were his real family. They filled that role much better than his dad and Lisa ever had. Or could. Or would.</p><p>They’d taken him under their wing from day one. They’d helped him navigate his new school and his new town and his new life without expecting anything in return. They hadn’t asked too many questions or tried to sell his story to the local news stations. They’d actively fought off “the buzzards,” their name for the people who had hounded him for information about The Blaze.</p><p>They’d been the Ron and Hermione to his Harry, except without all the heroic stuff. </p><p>They’d just been there when he’d needed someone. When he’d desperately needed someone. When he was in shock and mourning and so confused he could barely function. </p><p>They’d seen that and helped him get through the school year and graduate and go to college and...</p><p>They’d been his rocks for almost a decade.</p><p>It was almost enough to make him want to see what kinds of jobs they had for science majors in Alaska.</p><p> </p><p>They went out to dinner to celebrate Jo’s promotion.</p><p>It was familiar and uncomfortable and sad for reasons Evan wasn’t ready to think about.</p><p>“I’m leaving in two weeks,” Jo said with her mouth full of spaghetti.</p><p>Shane automatically held up her water. “Swallow.”</p><p>She choked down her food. “Shane’s coming next month.”</p><p>“We can pay our portion of the rent for another month after that,” Shane promised. “And the deposit’s yours. We already went to the office to sign it over.”</p><p>“I’ve started putting out some feelers to see if anyone knows someone looking for a roommate.”</p><p>Shane leaned over to elbow Evan. “Unless you’re finally ready to take the plunge and move in with Lydia.”</p><p>Evan scratched his neck. “Yeah, uh, about that...”</p><p>Jo’s face fell. “Oh, no. I liked that one.”</p><p>“That one?” Evan laughed. “As opposed to the other four?”</p><p>“Four?” Shane chuckled. “That’s a bit of an overstatement, isn’t it?”</p><p>“I’m counting Milo.”</p><p>Shane nodded. “As you should. Other four means there have been five though. Where are you getting five from? Are you counting Eden?”</p><p>Evan shook his head. “We only went out twice.”</p><p>Shane held up his hand. “Okay, so there’s Lydia, Milo-”</p><p>“Caroline,” Jo added. She made a face and shuddered at the memory.</p><p>“Logan.” Shane made a show of counting them off. “That’s four.”</p><p>Evan shook his head as he looked between them. “Paige?”</p><p>“Paige,” they moaned together.</p><p>Jo slapped her forehead. “How could we forget Paige?”</p><p>Evan shrugged. “Did I tell you she texted me a couple weeks ago?”</p><p>“Aww,” Jo cooed. “You two are so getting back together.”</p><p>“To tell me she’s getting married. She wanted me to hear it from her and not from someone else.”</p><p>“Alexis,” Shane coughed.</p><p>“Oh my God,” Jo groaned. “Alexis... Wait, that would be six then.”</p><p>Evan shook his head. “I’m not counting Alexis.”</p><p>“Why aren’t you counting Alexis? You slept with her, didn’t you?”</p><p>Shane grinned when he saw how uncomfortable that question made Evan. “Wait, are we counting the number of people you’ve had sex with? It’s gotta be more than six then.”</p><p>Evan buried his head in his arms.</p><p>Shane gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Aww, come on. We’re just trying to make sure you don’t miss us too much.”</p><p> </p><p>Evan jumped when his phone started to ring.</p><p>He jumped again when he saw who it was.</p><p>He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth and made a choice.</p><p>Answering was better than not answering because not answering meant he’d have to call her back. </p><p>He tried to sigh his feelings away before he picked up. “Hi, Mrs. Kleinman.”</p><p>She laughed into the phone. “Eileen, Evan. Eileen.”</p><p>Every time. They had that exchange every single time she called.</p><p>It took all of Evan’s willpower not to ask if she’d prefer for him to call her ‘Mom.’</p><p>Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? She saw herself that way. He’d been the closest thing she’d had to a son for the past ten years. </p><p>He humored her because he knew where she was coming from. She was a mother who’d lost both of her sons in The Blaze. He was a son who’d lost his mother. She’d known him since he was a baby, since the day he was born. </p><p>It only made sense for her to want to keep him in her life. </p><p>The problem was he wasn’t Jared. And he definitely wasn’t Henry.</p><p>He didn’t think that really mattered to her though. Calling him and visiting him and helping him gave her a sense of purpose. His existence was what kept making her call, not who he was as a person.</p><p>“Oh, I’m so excited!”</p><p>Evan nearly dropped his phone when he heard her tone and her words and everything they implied.</p><p>He blinked as he tried to rewind the last few minutes and figure out what she was excited about.</p><p>“You’ll stay with us, of course. Harold can pick you up from the airport. He drives right by it on his way home every-”</p><p>“I’m sorry. What?”</p><p>Evan shook his head to clear it.</p><p>He chewed his lip when she didn’t explain.</p><p>“I just emailed you the details. Let me know when you’ve booked a flight.”</p><p>Evan squeezed the phone so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t break.</p><p>He couldn’t make himself focus while she chattered on about the latest Storm City gossip.  </p><p>He didn’t say anything until it was time to hang up. </p><p>He checked his email as soon as he did. </p><p>And then he threw his phone down. </p><p>Shane walked in the room just in time to see that. “Lydia?”</p><p>Evan tilted his head. “What?”</p><p>Shane’s eyes darted around aimlessly. “I thought she might’ve... Nothing.”</p><p>He was refusing to look Evan in the eye. </p><p>Evan appreciated that most of the time. </p><p>This was not one of those times.</p><p>He sat up and tried to catch Shane’s eye. “Why did you-”</p><p>Shane squeezed his eyes shut and gestured at Evan’s phone. “Not Lydia?”</p><p>“Not Lydia,” Evan confirmed. He puffed his cheeks out. “I think I just agreed to go to Storm City for a memorial service.”</p><p>Shane finally turned to look at him. To look above him. Still no eye contact. “You what?”</p><p>“The ten-year anniversary’s coming up and-”</p><p>“Shit,” Shane muttered. “That’s...”</p><p>He wiggled his fingers like he was trying to do the math.</p><p>“Next month,” Evan said.</p><p>Shane’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. “We’re leaving you right before the-”</p><p>Evan a hand up to stop him. “It’s fine.”</p><p>“I’m staying.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Yes.” Shane threw himself onto Evan’s bed. “It’s fine. It’s better. I can stay another month while Jo gets everything set up and-”</p><p>“She’ll kill you.”</p><p>“Not if I tell her you-”</p><p>“I’ll be fine.”</p><p>Shane pulled himself up. “You’re actually going home?”</p><p>He pressed his lips together when he saw Evan’s expression. “You know what I mean.”</p><p>“Storm City’s where I was born. It’s not... There’s nothing there for me anymore.”</p><p>Shane nodded slightly. “So, why-”</p><p>“The Kleinmans.”</p><p>Shane snorted. “Eileen guilted you into it?”</p><p>“I must’ve said something that sounded like a yes while I wasn’t listening.”</p><p>Shane snorted again. “Yeah.”</p><p>“I do that?”</p><p>“You do that.” </p><p>“I’m going to tell her I have to work.” Evan wrinkled his nose. “I’m going to email her that I have to work.”</p><p>“Good idea,” Shane nodded. </p><p>His eyes were practically boring a hole in Evan’s comforter. </p><p>Evan angled himself so that he could see the corners of Shane’s eyes. “What were you saying about Lydia?”</p><p>He sighed when Shane still wouldn’t look up. “Do you want me to get my blindfold?”</p><p>Shane’s head popped up at that. “No. It’s fine. It’s just... Don’t shoot the messenger, okay?”</p><p>Evan didn’t need to see his eyes to know what that meant. “What did Jo do?”</p><p>“She called Lydia.”</p><p>Evan didn’t know what to say. “She... What? Why?”</p><p>“Because-”</p><p>“They’re friends now?”</p><p>“Not friends, exactly. I don’t know.” Shane’s hands flew up defensively. “I don’t know how girls’ minds work.”</p><p>“You know how Jo’s mind works.”</p><p>“So do you! Why don’t you go in there and pin her down and look her in the eye?”</p><p>Evan shook his head. “Because I don’t have a death wish.”</p><p>“Yeah...” Shane laughed. He twiddled his thumbs around in his lap. “So, yeah, she called Lydia and I guess Lydia said some things that...”</p><p>“That what?”</p><p>“She cried. Jo said she was crying the whole time they were on the phone.”</p><p>Evan stared at his feet. “Oh.”</p><p>“You broke her heart.”</p><p>Evan’s stomach sank. “I didn’t mean to!”</p><p>“You never mean to.” Shane glanced at him quickly. “Did you see something that freaked you out?”</p><p>“Kind of,” Evan shrugged. “I don’t know. She was more into it than I was.”</p><p>“What did you, like, see a wedding dress this time?”</p><p>Evan’s mouth twisted to the side. “Not exactly.”</p><p>“Then what-”</p><p>“It was too much. I just... It was too much.”</p><p>“It’s always too much.”</p><p>Evan allowed himself to fume about that for a moment. “How would you feel? How would you feel if you could always look at Jo and-”</p><p>“No, I know,” Shane sighed. “I don’t know if I could handle it. It would suck. So much. And that’s coming from someone who feels like he knows Jo better than she knows herself sometimes. It would...”</p><p>He shuddered at the thought.</p><p>“You know they’re doing a study about how people’s powers affect their relationships and-”</p><p>“You’re in it?”</p><p>“No,” Evan muttered. “But it’s being done and the findings are clearly showing that-”</p><p>“You’re all fucked up.”</p><p>“Exactly,” Evan nodded. “Even the ones like me who aren’t in the field.”</p><p>Shane chewed his lip. “You know, Jo and I were talking about it and we think you should go out with a blind person.”</p><p>“I tried that.”</p><p>“You did?”</p><p>“Remember Emily?”</p><p>“Right,” Shane groaned. “It didn’t make a difference.”</p><p>“I could still...” Evan jabbed at his forehead.</p><p>Shane finally looked him in the eye. “Hey, I almost forgot, can you do your thing and...”</p><p>He poked both of their foreheads and made a sound that was somewhere between an explosion and a dying duck.</p><p>Evan stared at him for a beat. “You left your keys next to the toaster.”</p><p>Shane slapped the side of his head. “The toaster! What am I going to do without you?”</p><p>“Lose everything you own?”</p><p>“Yeah... You haven’t figured out how to do readings over Skype yet, have you?”</p><p>Evan waved his hand in a so-so motion. “They’re pretty hit or miss still.”</p><p>“But you’re working on it?”</p><p>“I’m working on it.”</p><p> </p><p>The euphoria of having successfully completed his workshop was quickly replaced by exhaustion.</p><p>Evan leaned against the counter and sipped his coffee and tried to catch his breath.</p><p>He reluctantly looked up when he heard Frederick come in.</p><p>“You did a good job today,” Frederick practically chirped.</p><p>Evan glanced at him suspiciously. “What do you want?”</p><p>Frederick was having none of that. He put his sunglasses on while he puttered around the kitchenette.</p><p>Evan tried to comfort himself by noting how ridiculous Frederick looked. </p><p>“You really engaged with them,” Frederick went on. “They were mesmerized.”</p><p>“They were an easy audience,” Evan shrugged.</p><p>And they had been. </p><p>The majority of the group had consisted of his brother, Liam, and his friends. It was easy to be engaging when he was surrounded by teenagers who had basically been hero-worshipping him since they were kids.</p><p>Frederick rubbed his hands together. “Someone’s here to see you.”</p><p>And there it was.</p><p>He sighed when Frederick didn’t elaborate. “Who?”</p><p>Frederick practically bounced out of the staff room. “I’ll send her in.”</p><p>Evan picked at his nails while he waited. He refused to give Frederick the satisfaction of seeing him sweat.</p><p>He wondered who it could be.</p><p>Jo was the only she who ever stopped by the arboretum and she wasn’t enough to make Frederick look that giddy. Not by a longshot.</p><p>He jumped when the door opened, even though he’d known it was coming. </p><p>The woman who walked in looked vaguely familiar. </p><p>His stomach twisted when he realized why. </p><p>He hoped he was wrong.</p><p>It had been almost ten years since he’d seen anyone from Storm City, besides the Kleinmans and his mother’s friend Maggie.</p><p>He didn’t like the idea of breaking that streak.</p><p>“Evan?” The woman said tentatively. She studied him for a beat. “It is you, isn’t it? I thought I recognized the name.”</p><p>Evan simply blinked.</p><p>The woman extended her hand. “Tracy Jacobs. We went to high school together.”</p><p>Evan shook her hand and nodded. “Storm City?”</p><p>Tracy beamed. “Yup.”</p><p>Her mouth twisted to the side as she took in the room. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”</p><p>She closed her eyes for a moment. “I’ll get straight to the point. My flight leaves at 2:15 and I have to... I got your name from Owen Harris.”</p><p>“Owen?” Evan gasped.</p><p>Tracy smiled knowingly. “He’s been on the lecture circuit since he retired.”</p><p>“I heard.”</p><p>“He came to Storm City a few weeks ago and...” Her hand flopped around in front of her. “He told me I should look you up if I ever came out this way.”</p><p>“Oh,” Evan nodded. “Okay.”</p><p>“Yeah, so...” Tracy wrinkled her nose. “Is there anywhere-”</p><p>“My car?” Evan suggested.</p><p>“That’ll do.”</p><p>Evan ignored the smug look Frederick gave him when he saw where they were going.</p><p>He ignored it until Tracy’s back was turned. </p><p>He flipped Frederick off before following her out.</p><p>Neither of them said a word until they were in the car and the radio was on.</p><p>Evan tugged at his sleeves. “So, what-”</p><p>“A couple things,” Tracy said quickly. She showed him a picture on her phone. “You know this guy?”</p><p>Evan nodded. “Darius Byers.”</p><p>Tracy lowered her phone. “He goes by Reaper now.”</p><p>“He’s the Reaper?”</p><p>“You’ve heard about him?”</p><p>Evan’s head flopped from side to side. “Sort of.”</p><p>He’d heard Mrs. Kleinman mention the name. He knew the Reaper was the latest villain terrorizing the town.</p><p>Tracy gestured at the building. “He worked here?”</p><p>Evan nodded. “For a few weeks. He left about six months ago.”</p><p>“That sounds about right.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “What was he like?”</p><p>“Psychotic.”</p><p>Tracy snorted. “Don’t hold back on my account.”</p><p>“I’m serious. The guy was nuts. He slashed my tires because I corrected him in front of a visitor.”</p><p>Tracy looked relieved to hear that.</p><p>Really relieved.</p><p>So relieved that it made Evan frown. “What?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Tracy muttered.</p><p>Evan pulled out his phone when Tracy didn’t go on. “The Reaper’s been stealing people’s memories?”</p><p>“Their good memories,” Tracy said. “It’s like he’s a Dementor or something.”</p><p>“That sounds about right,” Evan grinned.</p><p>“People are ending up in comas because of him.”</p><p>Evan considered that for a moment. “So, you’re what? Here to ask me to come help?”</p><p>He stopped himself before he asked if Eileen Kleinman had put her up to it. He wasn’t paranoid enough to think that was a possibility.</p><p>It wasn’t like the Kleinmans knew about his powers. </p><p>It wasn’t like he ever talked to them about anything real.</p><p>Tracy shook her head. “I just wanted to get some insight into what he was like and...”</p><p>She puffed her cheeks out. “Do you know if he had powers when he was here?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t be alive if he did.”</p><p>“Right,” Tracy muttered. “Then he must’ve picked something up in Storm City.”</p><p>She smiled tightly. “He got a job as a janitor at Storm City Labs.”</p><p>Evan’s mouth dropped open. “That’s not good.”</p><p>“You’re telling me,” Tracy sighed. She twisted around so she could look Evan in the eye.</p><p>He inhaled sharply. </p><p>It smacked him in the face.</p><p>“You think you could turn out like him?”</p><p>Tracy smiled at her hands. “Owen was right. Your vision is clear.”</p><p>“That was an easy one since you weren’t trying to hide it. It’s harder when someone’s trying to keep me out.”</p><p>“I never have to worry about that.” Tracy wiggled her fingers. “I’m just a human mood ring.”</p><p>“And you’re worried you’re going to start absorbing people’s moods?”</p><p>Tracy shrugged. “It’s crossed my mind. It’s the reason I’ve never felt the need to hone my powers. I don’t want to know what else I can do.”</p><p>“How long have you-”</p><p>“Ten years. They popped up out of nowhere the summer before twelfth grade.”</p><p>She’d touched his shoulder. </p><p>The memory consumed him.</p><p>She’d touched his shoulder after his run-in with Ronnie and his goons. </p><p>He looked her in the eye and it was one of those moments where it was impossible to tell if they were thinking the same thing or if her thoughts were so strong they were smothering his.</p><p>He looked away. </p><p>Tracy smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Owen said you can’t turn it off.”</p><p>“It’s fine.” He glanced at her quickly. “Can you?”</p><p>Tracy shook her head. “It’s a lot easier to avoid touching people than it is to avoid looking at them though.”</p><p>Evan snorted. “Not if you’re me.”</p><p>He made a face. “Not that I go around touching people all the time or...”</p><p>His face was getting red. There was no way he was ever looking her in the eye again. </p><p>He scratched his neck. “I just mean eye contact has never been easy for me and this, well...”</p><p>“Made it harder?”</p><p>“You have no idea.”</p><p>“How long have you been like this?”</p><p>“Six years.” He smiled at the memory. “It’s my friend Jo’s fault.”</p><p>He told her the story. He told her about how Jo had gone to a sampling party and tried something that gave her the ability to fly for two days. About how she’d been so upset when the power faded that she’d tricked him and Shane into breaking into Owen’s lab to look for more. About how a pair of rival supervillains named Banker and Robber had been doing the same thing and they’d gotten caught in the crossfire.</p><p>The crossfire that had involved a disco ball, a mirror, and a vial of silvery liquid that had gotten in Evan’s eyes.</p><p>Tracy pouted when he was done. “You have an origin story.”</p><p>“Kind of,” Evan shrugged.</p><p>“I want an origin story.”</p><p>“You’re welcome to use mine if you want.”</p><p> “I don’t think it would work with my thing.” She grinned and did jazz hands. “Did your friends pick up any powers that day?”</p><p>Evan shook his head. “Jo’s still mad that my powers didn’t fade.”</p><p>“There’s a theory about that, you know.”</p><p>Evan nodded. “That people who witnessed The Blaze firsthand are more susceptible to keeping their powers than people who didn’t.”</p><p>“There used to be an insane number of sampling parties in Storm City. Bennie thinks that’s why we have so many supervillains now.”</p><p>“Used to be?” Evan blinked. Eileen always made it sound like there were labs popping up on every street corner, like vials of questionable chemicals were the new weed.</p><p>“The Do-Betters are seriously cracking down on them.” Tracy tilted her head when Evan continued to blink. “The DBs?”</p><p>She snorted and smiled to herself. “The Dweebs? That’s what we call them at the Agency.”</p><p>Evan simply shrugged. “Okay...”</p><p>“They’re that vigilante group that’s been-” She lifted her hands to form air quotes. “-cleaning up the city.”</p><p>Evan stared at her for a beat. “You don’t like them?”</p><p>Tracy chewed her lip. “They mean well.”</p><p>Evan laughed when their eyes accidentally met. “You can’t stand them.”</p><p>Tracy opened her mouth to protest, only to chuckle when she realized there was no point. He’d sensed what she was thinking. “They’re just so...”</p><p>“Annoying?” Evan guessed. </p><p>Tracy waved her hand in a so-so motion. “Sort of. I don’t know. I shouldn’t complain. It’s not like I have to deal with them that often.”</p><p>“You’re a behind the scenes type too?”</p><p>Tracy nodded. “I’m a barely there type. My power’s pretty much useless when there’s a man-eating gorilla on the loose.”</p><p>Evan raised his eyebrows. “Pretty much? Did they send you in to feel the gorilla’s mood?”</p><p>Tracy snorted. “They tried. Bennie actually thought I could calm the gorilla somehow.” </p><p>She shook her head. “I don’t even know if my power works on animals.”</p><p>“Mine doesn’t.”</p><p>Tracy snorted again. “What have you, like, had a bunch of staring contests with dogs or something?”</p><p>“A few,” Evan grinned. “And Jo has a cat. I can’t read him at all.”</p><p>“He’s probably figured out how to block you. Cats are smart like that.”</p><p>“Or he doesn’t have a soul. A human soul. Owen used to say that’s what I’m seeing when I get my flashes.”</p><p>“The eyes are the window to the soul,” Tracy nodded. She tapped her chin in a very Owen-like way. “When you say flashes, do you mean flashes or...”</p><p>She took a breath. “With me, it’s like I’ve been shocked with whatever the person’s feeling.”</p><p>“It’s random. Sometimes a picture forms in my head, sometimes a thought or a sound or...” He shrugged. “It depends on the person. It depends on how well I know them and how comfortable we are around each other.”</p><p>“So, I’m guessing you don’t clock a lot of field time either?”</p><p>“Hardly any, especially since Owen retired. He used to drag me with him to see if he’d caught the right guy after he’d done his whole...” Evan pretended to shoot lasers out of his hands.</p><p>“Bennie’s tried that with me a couple times. Of course, by the time they catch someone, all I can feel is their exhaustion and anger and fear.”</p><p>“Not guilt?”</p><p>“They never think they’re guilty, do they?”</p><p>Evan got that. Even the ones he’d seen kill kittens thought they were heroes.</p><p>Tracy checked the time. “I better go. My flight’s leaving soon and I’m meeting a client at the airport.”</p><p>She smiled at his confusion. “I’m a pharmaceutical rep.”</p><p>“That’s your day job?”</p><p>“That’s my only job.” She wiggled her fingers. “These don’t pay the bills.”</p><p>She reached in her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here, in case you-”</p><p>“Need some drugs?”</p><p>She rolled her eyes. “Think about anything that would help us with Darius.”</p><p>Evan considered that for a moment. He couldn’t think of anything useful. The Darius he’d known had been a jerk, a bully, the very definition of an asshole. He’d even resembled one.</p><p>He didn’t know anything about fighting him though. Not physically. He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of a Darius rant. </p><p>“He has a weak ankle,” Evan said. “His left one, I think. He broke it years ago and he used to complain about it sometimes.”</p><p>“How’d he break it?”</p><p>Evan closed his eyes. “Soccer, I think. He played soccer when he was in high school. I got a vision about it once.”</p><p>“Okay,” Tracy nodded. “That’s almost something.”</p><p>Her eyes were so wide it was easy for him to look into them.</p><p>“You’re not going to turn out like him,” Evan assured her.</p><p>“Why?” Tracy demanded. “Because it’s been ten years and I haven’t snapped yet? That’s what Bennie keeps telling me.”</p><p>“Because...”</p><p>He didn’t know how to explain it.</p><p>The colors were different. The vibes were different. Her thoughts weren’t sharp and violent and spinning.</p><p>They didn’t fill him with dread.</p><p>She put a hand on his shoulder. “You just know?”</p><p>He summoned the energy to nod. “I just know.”</p>
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